


The Confession

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fanfiction, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Sherlock - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-08
Updated: 2016-10-08
Packaged: 2018-08-20 07:24:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8241229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: John isn't ready to face Sherlock and his inner turmoil but with him [Sherlock] quick on his tail as John navigates himself through the streets of London. It looks like there may be no other choice than to face his friend after all, will it end in tragedy or in euphoria?





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was the first Fanfiction i had ever written of Johnlock. I had only the knowledge of what my friend told me since she herself is a big enthusiast of the show. It may lack backstory but I'm thinking of writing one, tell me if you would like that by commenting after reading, please.  
> I had previously posted this on Wattpad a while back and I've decided to post it on here too because why not?  
> It does slightly deviate from the way the normal characters behave but I did my best to keep it believable.

 

"John!"

Once again Watson heard his accomplice shout his name, his monologue was cut of by another pleading shout,

 

"JOHN! PLEASE,"

There it was again, his name, louder than before, he must be getting closer, he thought he had lost him around the last bending but no, the tedious man was just as close as he was before, he must'nt let him catch up, he must not let him see, he couldn't... and with this inner thought he decided that he might as well listen to it, he was always a think with your head and not your heart person, there was only one exception at which he broke that rule and the reason was closing in on him, he picked up his pace, the frigid wind also picking up and hitting him in the face, an icy cold blast that had chilled him to the bones, he tightened his coat around his body, gripping at the edges of it, his cheeks now a crimson red colour were stinging from the contact, he ignored it and carried on hurriedly walking away, the rattling of the gates and the howls of the trees just noise in the background,

"JOHN WATSON, J-John, i see you, I see you there." John stopped in his tracks, what? no, n-n-no! he couldn't have caught up, he was sure he had lost him, he should have known, should have known, should have known that Sherlock would catch up to him anyway 

"John," now a breathless whisper, his voice was quiet, but to John, his name coming from those lips...well, it was like crackling thunder in his ears, he's sure nobody would have noticed the change in his voice, a crack, yes, a crack, did he hear that right? A crack, in his voice, Sherlock, the Sherlock, was crying, or he was surely on the verge of doing so. He stood behind him, silent, waiting, the only reason he could tell was because he could feel he was there, not in a sexual way, no.. It was a connection, a connection they had always shared, that lead them to be able to read what the other was thinking, to be able to decipher the moves each one was going to make and how to both benefit from it, it's what made them the best god damn alliance that there ever was, this bond, so... special and tender, was how he knew he was right behind him, waiting, he never has to guess with Sherlock, he just knows.

Taking a breath that felt as long and deep as the feelings inside of him, he slowly opened his mouth. 

'"Why," he paused, letting a harsh sigh out of his lips and letting them smack against each other, causing a popping sound, 

'"Why, can you not just leave me be?" he finished, letting his hard posture drift away, dropping his shoulders down to normal, there was no pretending with Sherlock, there never has to be, still facing forward, with his back to Sherlock, he made a quick scan of the path in front of them, It was a very cold and dull night, just like any other night in the rural parts of london, autumn was upon the city, making its normally vibrant atmosphere and colourful surroundings into a sombre and dull type mood, leaves scattered throughout the streets, yellow, brown, orange, it was all strange how this unique combination of colours could work but none of that really mattered not that he could think about anything else other than the man behind him, who has still yet to say a word.

Something was off, he hadn't spoken, it wasn't like Sherlock to not find some way to sneak a witty comment to say at such an unsuitable time, but atlas nothing, not even a slight change in his breathing, which he could no longer hear, a thought struck him like a fright train, had he left?

John's heart rate suddenly dropped, making it feel like his heart was in his stomach, he had to see, he had to know, going against his instinct to run and let him go, it was like trying to swim but having your hands tied behind your back, damn near impossible, but he fought and with one small movement turned his right foot at a sharp ninety degree angle, shortly followed by his left, his movements, painfully slow, looked like those of a robotic figurine, with the last of his fickle strength, he turned fully towards the black haired man before him, he refused to fully look at him, he was far too stubborn like that, so he settled for looking at the sidewalk just at the side of his head giving him a clear view out of the corner of his eye, raising his chin so to look at the least a bit formidable to talk to, he looked and almost stopped breathing, he was there, oh, he was still here, it was as if he was apart of the night itself as he blended perfectly into it almost unrecognisable his frame normally stood tall now had lost all of that confidence, it was clear on his hunched shoulders and on his head which now hung low.

John, did not enjoy seeing Sherlock like this, he didn't enjoy knowing it was him that had caused this but he needed to go, he needed to say what need be and go because if not he feared he may do something so reckless and yet, he thought it wonderful in the slightest.

"Sherlock, if, you are not going to speak-" John was interrupted from his sentence by the voice he thought he would never hear again, a very thick and smooth voice that he had gotten to know so much,

"Excuse me?" John asked, his brows now forming a frown, he couldn't understand his choice of words, and certainly didn't know what to make of them.

"I said," Sherlock paused to take a small intake of breath, he broke his unmoving stare of which he had averted to the ground, his head made a quick upwards motion,

 "NO- I said no," Sherlock repeated his former sentence, his deep, crystal clear gaze now locked on to John, "You, are not getting the final word, not, before I have my say."

Speechless, John was blown to absolute silence, he racked for words, any words that would do, but found none, leaving his mouth unconsciously hung open and a bewildered look plastered on his face, had he just told him what to do? This broke his silence, how dare he 

"I am not getting my say? before you?" He repeated in a sarcastical, mock tone, "You," He lifted his right hand to point his index finger directly to Sherlock and jab him

"Have some nerve, Holmes." He couldn't help himself, he laughed out loud, with a very over exaggerated head shake, the audacity of him,

"How dare you, you pompous as-

A laugh, stopped him from finishing his not so pleasant verbal assault on Sherlock, he was laughing, laughing at him, oh, no he daunt, having probably sensed that John was on close edge of exploding Sherlock stopped laughing at his blonde haired fellow and quickly explained his laugh

"It was the only way I could be sure of you listening to me."

John folded his arms and made a very exasperated look, really? He was going to make excuses.

"Please watson, i need you to listen to me, and then you can make your leave, just...hear me out." Sherlock loosely throwed his hands up and gestured at his ears, making sure to not break contact with his face to be able to decipher his true feelings he had to be looking at his face, Sherlock knew John like the back of his hand, he knew he was never stupid enough to show his emotional vulnerability through his physical activity, he showed it through his eyes, his eyes held a whole different world of secrets that nobody knew of and Sherlock had gotten pretty good at seeing through his mask.

John, thought through what he had said, hear him out.. That's all he wants, for me to hear him out and then say your piece and leave, easy, maybe too easy, he knew it was but he had nothing else, with a huff of his breath and change of stance Sherlock took that as sign that he was listening and to start.

"What I'm about to say, it was never intended.. not really, It just happened, I can't exactly explain why or how it happened, who knows," letting a breathless laugh free, and quickly glancing around watsons face for any sign of interest, he continued, "Maybe, it's fate, destiny or a stupid coincidence, I don't know.. W-what I do know is that this feels right."

Watson, was listening very intently every word seemed to intrigue him more, what on earth was he on about? Instead of letting his eyes wonder aimlessly back and forth as he looked at anywhere but Sherlocks eyes, he let it happen his eyes fell into place.

"I wasn't supposed to fall in love, but I did and- and it wasn't your intention to hurt me because you didn't know but.. you did." John found himself unable to break the hold that Sherlock had over him, he was shocked but he would never give that away, Sherlock was in love? He didn't know what to think, I suppose you're supposed to be happy for somebody when they tell you that but he could not find it in him to be happy for Sherlock or even fake it, and without warning or even a thought every feeling he had been holding inside of him hit, it was like a full blown kick to the gut, so strong and intense, it hit him hard enough that he momentarily lost the thought to breathe, he stumbled back two steps and was barely able to catch himself, Sherlock had noticed this, all though john tried to make it look like he did it intentionally, he noticed, Sherlock sighed silently, and threw a quick sorrowful glance to him, better to get this over with as he was clearly marking an exit and ready to leave.

"I don't expect anything from you, Watson. I never have, you were the best partner I've had,"

"Thank you." John quickly intervened with a whisper of a reply.

"And i don't know how i'm going to put this into words because quite frankly I'm usually good with them, But not when they, scare me to say."

John blinked, finally able to breathe again, he's almost without air again, Sherlock has never been scared of many things, especially things that involve words and talking but now he looks at this man, his movements are rigid and jerky, he stumbles and gets nervous?

Sherlock let out a long breath and straightened his body upright making him all the more taller than watson now.

"Psychology says, always go with the choice that scares you the most, because that is the one that's going to help you grow... You make me a better man John, more than I would like to admit."

John was baffled, all these complimentary statements had been thrown his way and he didn't know how to react but his heart did his heart was beating at an alarming rate and his body was beginning to spread warmth to his own numb cheeks making it now a slight pinkish colour instead of red, his hands that had started to get pins and needles from the cold weather conditions had now returned to their former state, he saw that Sherlock was waiting for him so he could continue but he grew tired of his games and wanted to know why he chose to tell him this, why must he go on to rub more salt in a wound that had enough in it already.

"Watson, i-"

"Am taking my time.. if i might say." John answered, in a little bit more of an up lifting tone hoping it would speed him up.

"Do not rush me, Watson. This is hard for me."

"Yes, clearly, i can see that." John answered again sarcastically.

"Heavens above man, you are infuriating. I'm trying to say something and you are not making it easy."

"Oh, I'M the infuriating one now, right.. okay, If you insi-"

John was about to finish when slightly large, ice cold hands landed on the side of his head in a gentle but ferocious way, they cut him off.. complete silence, complete and utter silence, nothing said, all you could hear was the deep, heavy breaths of the two men standing inches away from each other.

"I love you," Sherlock half shouted, half whispered, "I have loved you for a very, long time.. I love you John." Sherlock found himself sobbing the last line, it meant that much to him and John, John was unresponsive, he had gone into a transfixed state, Sherlock gently shook his head with both of his hands, his brows frowning and his lip starting to quiver,

"Answer me, John. Please." He was desperate, desperate to find out if he felt the same but he couldn't, he wasn't moving but his heart and mind was telling him to not give up, he had to try, and without a secondary thought in his head, he kissed him, oh, dear god no words in the english dictionary could of described the feel of his lips, so soft upon his, it felt like something out of a dream, something that shouldn't exist as it is too pure for this world, Sherlock, at long last released John's lips from his own with great distaste, he drew back to find his dear Watson staring right back at him, blinking and fully aware, he had something different about him, his eyes held a different story now

"W-what was that?" John asked, in a louder, very high but soft voice.

"Erm, well.. you see. You was in shock and i thought, that er- if, i-i-"

"Do it again." Sherlock was surely going mad, he didn't just hear John say that, it, was his mind playing tricks?

"What?"

"I want, you, to kiss me." OK, he was crazy, not being able to tell whether he was imagining it or if it was real, he opted for a raised eyebrow and facial expression that lead to him looking like he'd been slapped.

"For god sake," John exclaimed in a very impatient tone, he grabbed the sides of Sherlocks long, black coat and dragged him in for what was, in John's eye's what they call an earth shattering kiss, their lips were like puzzle pieces, they fit together so perfectly like they were made for eachother.

John, broke the kiss but still kept his lips close and his forehead on Sherlock's,

"You, are such an insufferable man." John whispered quietly to Sherlock, he smiled with that stupid half grin of his and the twinkle of a thousand stars in his eyes, "But you love me anyway." Holmes replied.

"That, I do," Watson chuckled, "that I do."

 

 


End file.
